He didn’t respond to her words, just said, “I’ll meet you at your house.” Because if he was wrong, if she wasn’t feeling the same deep-seated need that he was, he’d end up eating his words and feeling like a fool.
The fifteen-minute drive seemed to take forever, but finally she pulled into the driveway of her house. They got out of their cars and stared at each other for a minute before coming together.
Then he was reaching for her and dragging her into his arms, kissing her with a fervor he had no business feeling. But she kissed him back just as hard, her hands winding around his neck, going up on tiptoe so she could get closer.
Her tongue found his, leaving no doubt in his mind where her thoughts were headed. And that was fine by him, because his had been there for hours … weeks.
“Keys.” His muttered words were met with a jingle, then he swept her up in his arms and strode to the front door. “Unlock it.”
It gave him a thrill to note that her hands shook as she twisted around to do as he asked, because he knew his were trembling just as hard, along with every other part of his body. Half in anticipation of what was to come and half in fear that somehow it was all going to fall apart before they got inside … before he got the chance to strip her clothes from her body—in her bedroom this time—and drive her to the point of no return.
Because he was already there. There was no turning back from the emotions that were throbbing to life within him. He couldn’t bring himself to say them, so he would show her instead. With his mouth. With his hands.
With his heart.
And hope that somehow she’d be able to decipher their meaning.
He kicked the door closed, trying not to trip when Cooper suddenly appeared, barking wildly and winding around him. He let Jessi down long enough for her to let the dog out into the backyard before hauling her back up into his arms. This time he lifted her higher so that his mouth could slant back over hers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs, her waist. Right on cue, her arms went back around his neck and she held on tight.
Clung as if she were drowning.
Well, so was he.
“Bedroom,” he muttered against her mouth. Could he not get anything out other than one- and two-word sentences?
Evidently not.
And if she was going to stop this parade, she had the perfect opportunity to drag her lips from his and tell him to put her down, that they were going to sit on that long sofa and talk.
She didn’t. “Down the hallway, first door on the right.”
Then she was kissing him again, her eyes flickering shut even as his had to remain open to avoid tripping over furniture or running into a wall as he made his way down the hallway and arrived at her bedroom. He paused in the doorway and eyed the space, noting the frilly pillows on the bed and the hinged frame that held two pictures on the nightstand. One of Jessi with another man. And one of her holding that man’s baby.
Larry.
His chest tightened, and he pulled back slightly, rethinking this idea.
“What’s wrong?” Her breathless reply washed over him.
He nodded at the nightstand, and she glanced in that direction and then tensed before looking back up at him. She shook her head. “It’s okay, Clint. He’s been gone a very long time.”
She didn’t say that she didn’t love him, or that Larry wouldn’t mind if he could see them.
Just that the man had been gone a long time.
He stood there, undecided. Could he lie in that bed and thrust inside her, while her dead husband watched them?
“Take me over there,” she murmured.
He didn’t want to. Wanted to suggest they go back to the familiar sofa in the living room. But his feet had ideas of their own. He carried her over to the small table and watched as she tipped the frame over onto its front so that the pictures were no longer visible.
“Better?” she asked, one corner of her mouth curling.
It was. A little, anyway. “Yes.”
“Okay, now put me on the bed—” her fingers sifted through the hair at the back of his neck, sending a shiver over him “—and take off all my clothes.”
“Your wish—” he wiped Larry from his mind and dropped her from where he stood, then smiled at the squeal she gave as she bounced on the mattress and lay there staring up at him “—is my command.”
She licked her lips. “Then come down here and start commanding me.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BEFORE HE COULD do as she asked, Jessi sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, allowing her legs to hit the floor. Then she grabbed him behind the knees and dragged him forward a step or two, parting her legs until he stood between them.
“I thought I was doing the commanding,” he said.
“Changed my mind,” she said with a laugh, removing his keys and wallet from his pockets and putting them on the bed. “Because you’ll end up having all the fun, like last time.”
His brows went up. “I don’t remember hearing any complaints.”
“That’s because there weren’t any.” Reaching for his belt buckle, she slid the loop out in one smooth move that made his mouth water. “And I don’t think you’ll be hearing any complaints now. At least, not from me.”
With the buckle undone, she moved to the button of his dress slacks.
Hell, she wasn’t going to hear any complaints from him either. Although his ideas for maneuvering her to the point of no return were not going according to plan.
Or maybe she’d had the very same thoughts about him.
His flesh twitched.
And he was already too far gone to back out now.
Down went his zipper. “Wait.”
She stopped and met his eyes. “Am I doing something wrong?”
No, she was doing everything exactly right. And that was the problem. He really was too far gone. His body was pumping with anticipation. Too much too soon and he was going to have trouble not letting go in a rush. It was why he hadn’t let her touch him last time.
“No, honey.” His hand tangled in her hair, resisting the urge to drag her forward and show her exactly what he meant. “I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
One perfectly arched brow went up an inch, and she licked her lips. “And if I want to?”
Even as she said it, she peeled apart the edges of his slacks and pushed them down his hips, until they sat at midthigh.
No trying to hide what she did to him at this point, because it was right there in front of her. Her hands moved around to the backs of his thighs, sliding over his butt and grabbing the elastic waistband of his briefs. “Are you ready?”
Oh, he was ready all right. But he wasn’t so sure he was ready for what she wanted.
Dammit, who was he kidding? He was a man. He wanted it. Wanted every last thing she could think of doing to him.
And he wanted it now.
“Do it.”
That was all it took. She dragged his underwear down in one quick tug, her nails scraping over his butt in a sensual move that set all his nerve endings on high alert.
He bobbed free, inches from her face. Her thumbs brushed along the outsides of his legs as her hands curled around the backs of his thighs, holding him in place. Then she leaned forward without hesitation, her mouth engulfing him in a hot, wet rush that made him grunt with ecstasy.
She remained like that for several seconds, completely still, her eyes closed, nostrils flaring as if the sensation was heavenly.
Hell, lady, you should be standing in my shoes.
He struggled like a wild man to contain the warning tingle, using every bit of ammunition in his bag of tricks to keep from erupting right then and there. Tangling his hand in her hair, he dragged her backward until he popped free. “Damn, woman. You’re going to get more than you bargained for if you keep that up.”
She laughed. “Haven’t I told you? I love bargains. Especially when I get more bang for my … buck.”
Just like last time.
But this time he wanted to draw out his pleasure. And hers.
So, keeping his fingers buried in her hair, he drew her forward again, watching as she slowly opened her mouth.
Yes!
He edged closer, dying to feel her on him, then pulled away at the last second. He repeated the parry and feint several times with a slow undulation of hips that was a blending of obscene torture—emphasis on the torture. At least for him.
She clenched the backs of his thighs, trying to tug him closer, while he remained just out of reach. “Clint. Please …”
“What do you want, Jess?”
“Right now? I want you.”
That was all it took. He pushed her backwards on the bed, knocking the frame off the end table in the process, and shoved her full skirt up around her hips. Black satin panties met his hungry eyes. He jerked them down and then kicked his way out of the rest of his clothes, cursing when one foot got hung up in the waistband of his briefs. Once free, he tossed a condom packet onto the bed and lay down, hauling her on top of him, until she was straddling him, her skirt pooling around her hips.
“You wanted to be in control, Jess? You’ve got it.”
Her eyes trailed from the straining flesh outlined beneath the fabric of her skirt up his bare chest, until her eyes met his. “In that case, do you want me clothed? Or unclothed?”
Unclothed. His mind screamed the word, mouth going dry. He had to force himself to say, “Your game. Your rules.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Mmm. I like the idea of making my own rules.” Taking her skirt in hand, she pulled the black silk up his erection in a long, slow move that made him rethink his assessment. Then she let it slip back down the way it had come.
Okay, clothed was pretty hot, too. Especially when she continued to hold his gaze, and he knew she could spot every muscle twitch in his cheek, discern every time he had to hold himself in check. Like now, when myriad sensations began to gather in his chest. In his gut …
“Jess …” It was meant to be a warning, but her name came out as a low hum of air.
One of her hands crawled beneath her skirt and found him. And the tactile awareness of being able to feel what she was doing but not see it made the act seem secretive and forbidden. An exotic ritual that defied time and space.
She slid forward and shifted her hips up and over his ready flesh. He braced himself, but she didn’t come down on him in a rush, as he’d expected. Instead, she brushed him across her skin, back and forth, her eyes closing, lips parting. He swallowed hard when he realized what she was doing—using him on her body, giving herself pleasure, rocking her hips in time with her hand.
Holy hell. This was as hot as her mouth had been.
Worse.
Because then she’d only been pleasuring him. Now she was bringing both of them to new heights of throbbing awareness. Every cell in his body wanted to thrust home and end the torment. He could just slide up and inside her in one fast move, and she would probably let him … probably welcome him. But the shifting expressions on her face were too entrancing to do anything but lie there and take whatever she wanted to dish out.
“God, Jess. You’re killing me here.”
“What do you want?” She turned his earlier words around and pushed them back at him.
Only he knew exactly what he wanted. “I want you to make yourself come.”
Her fingers tightened, and her movements became quicker, bolder, her breasts straining beneath her shirt as she brushed herself against him—or brushed him against herself—he didn’t know which it was and didn’t care. He was dying to cup her, to scrape his thumb across those hard nipples now visible even through her blouse and bra, but he wanted this round to be all hers.
All around him, he felt her slick heat. Lust spiraled through him, growing stronger with each stroke, even as her movements became more purposeful. Reaching sideways, Clint found his wallet and the condom just inside it. He wrapped his fingers around the plastic wrapper, gripping it tight, hoping he’d still have the sanity to use it when the time came.
Jessi’s breathing quickened, her teeth coming down on her lip as her body continued to feign the motions of sex. Good sex. The kind of sex that didn’t come along every day, with every woman.
No, there was only one woman he’d ever shared this kind of connection with.
Her body stiffened suddenly, pressing hard against him. Then she went off with a cry, her body pulsing against the tight need of his erection. Tearing into the packet, he reached beneath her skirt and sheathed himself in a rush before plunging into her and losing himself in the continued contractions of her orgasm.
Using her hips, he pulled her down onto himself as hard as he could, already too far gone to try to last any longer. Instead, he pressed upwards in greedy thrusting motions as he allowed himself to plummet mindlessly over the cliff of his own release, falling, falling, until there was nowhere else to go.
Nothing registered for several seconds—or it might have been minutes. Hours, even.
When he could finally breathe again, finally think, he gathered her to his chest, his fingers sliding up through the damp strands of her hair and holding her close.
“Remind me not to put you in charge ever again.”
“So you are complaining.” She snuggled closer.
“Never.”
He kissed her brow, her taste salty with perspiration, and allowed his eyelids to finally swing shut … no longer afraid he was going to miss something crucial.
With one last sigh, he propped his chin on her head and allowed his body to relax completely.
Something tickled the side of her arm.
There it was again. It wasn’t Cooper, because he was in the living room, and the bedroom door was shut.
Her mind reached out to grasp something, only to have it shift away uneasily. The sensation returned. A light rhythmic stroke trailing up toward her shoulder now.
Her eyes opened to find someone standing beside the bed, watching her.
Clint.
“Hello, sleepyhead. I fed Cooper and let him out. Hope that was okay.”
“Mmm …”
Since his voice sounded as rough as hers felt, she wasn’t the only one who had fallen asleep after the second time they’d made love.
In her bed. In her house. And the second time he’d undressed her slowly. Carefully. Kissing his way down her body in a way that had made her heart melt, even while her senses had been kicking into high gear.
Like now. Only it was her heart that was soaring, rather than her libido. Because Clint was still here. He hadn’t hightailed it out of here like she’d half expected. The hope she’d grasped earlier continued to grow, picking up speed as she finally acknowledged the possibilities that this might just work out between them.
“Hey, yourself. What time is it?” She rolled onto her back to look at him fully.
“About five in the afternoon.” A hand reached up to scrub the stubble on his jaw. “Do you have to work?”
Work? At a time like this?
“Have you been walking around the house like that?” The man had fed Cooper and let him out … stark naked? He smiled. “Why? Does it bother you?”
“Define bother.”
He laughed. “So, about work …”
“No. No work, but I need to check on Chelsea and my mom, like I told them I would.”
“I thought you might. Otherwise I would have let you sleep. As it was, if Cooper hadn’t scratched at the door, I was going to wake you in a completely different way.” He found one of her hands and linked his fingers through hers.
She closed her eyes, happiness flowing over her. “Wow. You’re up for a third round?”
“Believe me, I’m up for all kinds of things. Round or otherwise.�
�� A quick glance down showed he was already up and ready.
“Mmm.” She let out a sigh as a thought came to her. Talk. That’s what she’d meant to do at some point, only she’d gotten sidetracked. She dipped a toe into the water. “Do you think Chelsea and Paul are going to start seeing each other?”
“I think it’s a possibility. Why? Is that a problem?”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Don’t know. They’ve both been through some tough times. They’ll either be able to support each other, or they’ll drag each other down.”
A shiver went over her. “I hope I never have to live through anything like the past couple of months ever again. How do you deal with patients who are in such pain on a daily basis? I think it would eat at my heart.” She hesitated before continuing. “And after what happened with your dad …”
Lifting his hand to kiss it, his crooked little finger caught her attention. She changed her aim and kissed that knuckle instead.
He stiffened at her act. “My dad is the reason I’m in this line of work.”
Pulling away, he reached down and picked something up off the floor. She frowned, and then saw it was the picture frame he’d knocked off. Flipping it over, he went to put it on the nightstand then stopped, his jaw tightening as he stared at it.
“Clint?”
He shook his head, throat moving for a second. Jessi swiveled her eyes to look at the frame.
The glass on Larry’s side had broken, a series of jagged, cobweb-looking cracks distorting his features and obscuring half of his face.
When she glanced back at Clint he looked … stricken. That was the only word she could think to describe it.
She reached out a hand. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s only a cheap frame. I can get another one.”
He set it on the table but wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Jessi, I need to tell you something.”
Summer of Love Page 44